


Blood Stained Memories

by Apollos_New_Kids



Category: New Kid Army - Fandom
Genre: Deaths, Man I'm horrible to my children, executions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 08:11:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15020372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apollos_New_Kids/pseuds/Apollos_New_Kids
Summary: Just a bunch of deaths/executions for my OCs in a Danganronpa AU





	1. The Final Performance

Tristan hummed as he strummed his guitar. This would be the performance of a lifetime. His footsteps were silent as he walked onto the dark stage. The cheers from the crowd filled his ears as soon as the lights flicked on. He couldn't help but smile as he started. 

His voice mixed with the music as he closed his eyes. Whenever he performed, he found all of his worries disappearing. He had nothing to think about other than his passion. 

Light danced across his skin, highlighting his vitiligo. It was the thing that identified him from all other musicians. Naturally, if he wanted to blend in, he'd cover it all with makeup. It wouldn't always work but it helped. 

Lost in his thoughts, he swayed to the music, words falling from his mouth sweetly. However, a noise interrupted his thoughts. Booing. Something he had never received before. 

Yet, he found himself unable to stop, even to the cries of liar as the screen behind him flashed with evidence that he wasn't who his fans thought he was. He survived by lying to himself and thus the rest of the world. By lying, he could pretend that he was the son his father wanted. Not the disappointment he was when his father and brother believed him to be when they died. 

Tristan flinched as a rock narrowly missed his head. He moved quickly, years of forced dance lessons returning to his mind as he weaved in and out of the flying objects. The words and music didn't stop. He wanted to stop. He wanted to run. Yet it was like something was controlling him.  
In his panic, he didn't hear footsteps behind him. Nor did he hear Monokuma's laugh as he was shoved roughly off the stage. Finally, the words stopped as he jumped to his feet and ran, flashes from cameras catching his escape. The boy ignored it as his maroon hair whipped around his desperate and scared face.

Tears dripped down his face as a yelp was drawn from his throat before he crashed to the ground. He looked at his feet, spotting a microphone at his feet. Before he could get up, his once adoring fans were upon him, fists and feet slamming down onto the poor musician.

He felt his guitar strap being cut away before the instrument was brought down against him. A disharmonious tune filled his ears as he was beaten, his life slowly fading out. 

A scream erupted from his throat as he felt something sharp digging into his leg as a sickening snap came from his arm. All of his begging for mercy and forgiveness fell on death ears.

Slowly his vision faded and light green eyes saw nothing ever again.


	2. The Past Can Hurt

Tears slowly built up in his eyes as he looked around the workshop. He couldn't believe he had done what he had. Someone was dead because of him. Someone would never escape this place. 

Shaking his head, he sat down at the workbench, smiling regretfully at a photo. He sighed and started his work, his hands moving quickly and skillfully. 

Landon hummed softly as he worked. The tune made him feel like he was at home. Like Hansel and Gretel would come running in, tails wagging in happiness as they barked. He half expected for a cute detective to walk in, cap casting shade onto his eyes. Landon loved his boyfriend's heterochromia. He couldn't help but keep an ear out for a voice screaming his nickname before his younger cousin launched himself at him.

Yet that never happened. Landon was alone. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice his invention sparking. That was until it started moving. The inventor stumbled back, his reality coming crashing down around him. He was going to die.

His hand launched out on instinct, grabbing the photo off of his workbench as he bolted out of the room. Had the hallway been this long when he first entered the area? He couldn't remember.  
Doors slammed open, making him flinch. He watched in horror as inventions from his past launched out of the dark rooms. His head whipped around as he tried to search for an escape. Spotting a small gap, he ran. His nose cracked as he smashed into a figure. With blood dripping from his broken nose, he whimpered. 

Standing ahead of him was a robot he had made when he was too lazy to do his chores. He stared in horror when he spotted that its eyes had changed. "Monokuma..."

The second the word was out of his mouth, his chest started burning. Looking down, he noticed a knife sticking out of his chest. Falling to his knees in shock, he didn't notice that he dropped his photo. Nor did he notice the robot's foot coming down. 

Akio sobbed as he walked forward, refusing to look at his cousin's corpse. Instead, he picked up the abandoned photo, collapsing to his knees in grief as he stared at the smiling faces. Landon's face was covered in blood, Akio's and Adrien's face clear. 

Everyone watched on in silence as the photographer mourned his fallen cousin, wishing he could go back to the happy time frozen in the picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Adrien's (Landon's boyfriend) creator: Adding to Landon angst, his murder was unintentional. He didn't even realize he killed anyone until the body was found... The body had been killed by an accident involving a faulty invention and a puddle of water in a leaky room. The body was of a certain detective... Adrien Barone, and next to him on a table was his hat. He was trying to figure out the puzzle lock on a door using a special tool Landon made, it has gotten wet as the detective set it for a moment but once he turned it on...


	3. Death Is The New Fashion

A blood-curdling scream drew everyone to one of the labs. Everyone's hearts dropped when they saw which lab the panicking girl was in. Everyone instantly knew what had happened when they saw Ava bent over a frail figure.

Landon swore softly, covering Akio's eyes so he couldn't see his friend's corpse. There was no way he could let Ari's memory be tainted for his cousin. He wanted him to remember them in a good way, not a blood-soaked figure.

Dax walked over silently, the Ultimate Graffiti Artist wrapping an arm around Ultimate Bodyguard's shoulders. His face was blank as he looked down at the body. "Come on. Let's get you someplace where you can lay down."

**"NO! I'M NOT LEAVING THEM! ARI WILL WAKE UP! I KNOW IT!"**

The heartbroken cry broke everyone's heart. No one knew who would kill the young Ultimate Fashion Designer, yet here they were, laying with their sewing needles embedded in their body. Bright fabric had been knotted into their blond hair, fabric dye staining their tan skin.

Clouded blue and brown eyes stared up at the ceiling. The soft orbs would never be filled with life, nor would they sparkle with happiness. Their sweet voice would never encourage the others, or sing to calm everyone down.

Ava refused to accept that her beloved sibling was dead. Tears dripped onto their frozen face. She had promised to protect them and she had failed. They were dead.

"W-Which ever one of you d-did this...I'll kill you." The cold threat was expected from the crying girl. She looked ready to slaughter everyone in the room to avenge the younger García.

Shaking his head, Eli walked over, carefully picking Ava up. The Ultimate Fighter didn't react as the girl pounded her fists roughly on his back. Instead, he silently walked out, carrying the sobbing girl to her room, his heart heavy with grief.

The remaining forced participants stared at the body in silence before Mastilo moved forward, the young Calligrapher managing to close his friend's eyes. He looked around the trashed lab. It was clear that Ari had done their best to escape. The designer had never been aggressive.

He shook as he gripped onto some fabric. He was the one who used fabric dye to make the design. A lot of the custom designs, he had played a role in the creation.

Trey bent down, like always, he performed the investigation of the body. He was the medic after all. It was the least he could do. He wanted to cry but hid his emotions. Tears could not bring the kind child back. However, the group could find their killer.

Silently, everyone minus one swore to find whoever had killed the hopeful fashion designer.


End file.
